Captured
by rainbow-washed-greyscale
Summary: Locke, Rousseau, Alex, and Sawyer are on a quest for something. After finding an unusual block in the jungle, they revise their plans, and the Smoke Monster is finally contained. How will the world react once it leaves the "safety" of the island?
1. Chapter 1

**Captured**

Four forms crouched low among the jungle brush. Moving as silently as possible, Locke, Rousseau, Alex, and Sawyer approached a tall concrete post. Spaced about 30 apart, poles identical to the first formed a section of a large enclosure. At the base of the initial post sat a small black box.

"Disarm it." Locke ordered.

"Be careful, Alex." Rousseau whispered.

Nodding, Alex moved silently towards the pillar of concrete, opened the grey box, and entered a series of numbers. A muted *beep* acknowledged the correct code. Approaching slowly, Rousseau reached into her pack, pulling out a white rabbit by the scruff of its neck. She gently set it on the ground near the base of the concrete post.

With a quiet snuffle, the creature crept forward, then passed the pole. The rabbit continued forward, unharmed. Sawyer, who'd come up behind Alex, hissed in her ear, "The hell was that for?"

Alex jumped then turned around, her open palm raised. "Don't lurk, Sawyer. It's fo-"

Locke overheard their hushed conversation, and interrupted Alex's reply. "It's to test the fence, James."

"What fence? All I see is one giant game of pickup-sticks." Sawyer retorted.

"These concrete posts are topped with a sonar fence. Cross the line while it's armed, and it won't be pretty. If the rabbit had died, we would be in trouble." Rousseau informed him.

"Remember our Ukranian friend Mikhail? This is how he died." Locke added with a detached air.

Sawyer looked alarmingly interested. Gazing up at the top of the nearest post, he asked, "Son of a bitch. What exactly happened to him?" A keen, yet disturbing note found its way into his question. Alex, who'd heard the story in detail, gave an involuntary shudder.

"He started shaking, foamed at the mouth, bled from the ears, and collapsed. Unpleasant, but effective." Locke's voice lacked emotion. "If Danielle's rabbit had died, we would know the fence was still armed. Since it didn't, we know it's safe." As he spoke, Locke strode confidently past the fencepost and picked up the rabbit surprisingly gently.

"Safe is a relative word," Rousseau added, "We don't know what else could be out here. We cannot hide from the Monster now."

"Nothing's safe on this damn island. Polar bears, crazy French chicks, and smoke monsters, oh my! Alright, Sheena, where to now?" Sawyer sounded irritated, which was not unusual.

Alex took the rabbit from Locke, and stepped into the lead. As she passed him, she dug her heel into Sawyer's boot. Wincing, but not saying anything, Sawyer followed her. Rousseau and Locke were close behind. No one spoke, but the world was far from silent. The jungle soundtrack they'd become accustomed to filled the air. It was the fault of the constant murmur that the four didn't hear the subtle, repetitive _thump, thump, thump_ that had been following them since they'd crossed the fence line.

"Son of a bitch!" Sawyer cursed as a large whitish form filled their path. "I already shot one of you a coupla weeks ago! Care to join your buddy in bear hell?" He drew his gun, aiming it straight into the animal's face.

"Don't kill it, James. Just stand still." Locke's tone changed. "Everyone just wait. It'll go away, eventually." The polar bear turned to face Locke as he spoke.

Rousseau, who'd been at the end of the group, reached into her pack with a speed that would make a snail seem lightning fast. Finding what she wanted, she withdrew her hand and threw something towards the bear. The fish biscuit turned over and over in the air as it flew. It made a hollow _thwunk_ as it made contact with the animal's cranium. The polar bear let out a menacing growl, picked up the orange snack in its jaws, and crunched it in two bites. Lumbering back over to Sawyer, it opened its mouth, and gripping his gun firmly, jerked its head up.

"Son of a bitch!" As his grip on the weapon broke, Sawyer fell backwards. A string of curses followed his starting outburst. Satisfied, the polar bear stared Sawyer in the face for a moment, then made its way back into the jungle. "The hell are we supposed to do now?"

"What makes you think we're going to change the plan because you don't have your gun, Mr. Hotshot?" Alex asked, coming over to where he still lay on the ground. "If you behave yourself, maybe one of the grown-ups will let you hold onto their gun. Until then-" Alex reached into her boot. "Until then, you'll have to make do with a knife." She handed him an eight-inch blade, encased in a leather scabbard. A smug smile crept across her face.

"Thanks, Lollipop." Climbing to his feet, he took the knife offered to him.

"Are you done here, James?" Locke asked, clearly wanting to move on.

"Yeah, I'm done, Cue ball. Never mind the fact that we just got attacked by a frickin' POLAR BEAR!" Sawyer's frustration showed in his voice.

"If I didn't know you, Sawyer, I'd say you were scared." Rousseau teased.

"You think I'm SCARED?!" Sawyer's frustration turned to anger at Rousseau's comment. "You think I'm frickin' scared of a dumb animal?! Look here, chica, if you think-"

"James, control yourself. Let's just keep moving." Locke scolded. He treated Sawyer more like a disobedient child than a grown man. Sawyer mumbled something under his breath, then, drawing the knife Alex had given him, began slashing his way through the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't worry about James. You only injured his pride. It's good for him." Locke set a reassuring hand on Alex's shoulder, as a look of uncertainty had appeared on the teenager's face.

"Well are ya comin' or ain't ya?" Sawyer's voice found its way back to his three companions.

"We should catch up to him. He doesn't have a clue where he's going." Alex ran ahead to guide everyone in the right direction. Rousseau and Locke followed her.

"Son of a bitch," Sawyer uttered in pure astonishment at what sat in front of him. By then, Locke, Rousseau, and Alex were standing behind him. "The hell is this, Underdog?"

"I don't know yet, Sawyer. Give me a minute to find out." Alex snapped in a whisper.

The thing standing in the middle of a clearing was a gigantic cube, about eight feet in each dimension. A coat of graying paint was flaking off the outside. Embossed into one side were the letters "CV."

"CV… CV…" Locke muttered to himself. He had obviously seen these letters together before.

"These are familiar to you?" Rousseau's question was directed at Locke.

"CV stands for something…" Locke's hushed manner indicated he was thinking. "Where have I seen these letters before?"

"Hey! Look at this!" Alex's voice came from the far side of the cube. Rousseau and Locke came to see what she was yelling about, but Locke stayed put.

"Now what've we got here, Sheena?" Sawyer's mocking tone didn't fully disguise a genuine interest.

"Just watch." Alex reached up the metal siding, felt around for a moment, then gripped something. With a yank, a lever came free. Once pulled down, the box gave a shudder. Mechanical sounds began to emanate from inside. A corner of the box fell away, revealing a five-foot high door.

"Son of a bitch." A note of awe found its way into Sawyer's statement.

Alex, who'd managed to climb up and sit on top of the container, jumped to the ground, and made her way through the door. A moment later she emerged and barely managing to get away from the cube as its roof raised, detaching from three of four sides, only stopping once it was flesh with the rest of the wall. All four walls then sank into the ground.

A large, oval-shaped hole gaped in the spot where the box had stood a moment before. Walking around to the far side of the pit, Rousseau laid down amongst the grass.

"It looks like a grate or filter of some kind." Rousseau informed her companions.

An expression of comprehension flitted across Locke's face. "It's a vent."

"The hell you talking about, Hoss? Why would there be a vent in the middle of the jungle?" Sawyer, ready as ever with an insult and a nickname, asked.

"Remember Desmond's hatch? The one Boone and I found?" Locke began to explain. "It went into lockdown mode once, and my leg got trapped under the door. The lights went out, and an image of a map appeared on the door I was under. On it, the letters CV were marked in several places. This must be one of them."

"So you think the V stands for vent." Alex clarified. "What's the C for then?"

"Cerberus. The C stands for Cerberus." Sawyer and Alex jumped as Ben's voice came from directly behind them. Locke and Rousseau barely twitched.

"Hello, Ben. Thanks for joining us. Care to explain what the Cerberus is?" Locke addressed Ben as if they were old friends who'd recently come to hate each other more than a snowball hates a microwave.

"One of the most advanced security systems around. An intelligent being that can defend without worry of being hurt itself. Genius." The fact that Ben had answered Locke's question without argument was stunning.

"If it's a security system, why do you need the sonar fence?" Alex asked her adoptive father.

"That's the question isn't it? The Cerberus was designed to protect the DHARMA Initiative, but it got out of hand. Now it thinks everything is a threat. The only thing that repels it is the fence, which you successfully disarmed! If it learns about the vents, we're all done for." Only a hint of anger colored Ben's voice.

"There's more of 'em?" Sawyer strode up to Ben, his hand going to the knife lent to him by Alex.

Locke spoke up, at that moment, first to placate Sawyer, then to question Ben. "Take it easy, James. What exactly does this vent do?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: This chapter gets kind of technical, and goes on about scientific mumbo-jumbo. Please know that I've done my research to make things as accurate as possible. Also, I know the theory I'm presenting in this chapter has been discredited by the show's producers, but it makes too much sense to be ignored. Other than that, enjoy! –R.W.G._

Ben looked at Locke. "John, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now."

"I don't have much to go by." Locke's voice masked a tinge of frustration.

Ben began to explain with a sigh. "When the Cerberus was new, its creators maintained moderate control. Being scientists, they were immensely proud of their foggy pet. They wanted to make as many 'improvements' to it as they could. They made it faster, smarter, and invented tests to prove their successes."

"And something went wrong? What happened?" Alex interrupted the tale.

"Hold on, Alex. I have a feeling he'll get to that. Go on, Ben." Rousseau hushed her daughter. By this time, everyone had settled down in the grass to listen to Ben's story.

"As I was saying, they tested the Cerberus, trying to see what weaknesses it might have and what further upgrades they could make to it. A popular subject of these tests was how quickly the 'creature' could learn. That's where the vents came from. The DHARMA scientists put the vents in the ground so the monster could get from one side of the Island to another more quickly. They timed how long it took for it to discover and explore them," Ben continued.

"Alright Yoda, makes sense so far," Sawyer commented, "There's just one thing you've neglected to include. How'd these geniuses talk to their little Frankenstein? They needed to communicate somehow."

Locke's face suddenly adopted a smug smile. He began to laugh quietly to himself. "I've figured it out, Ben. I get it now. I know how they communicated, and I know why your sonic fence works."

Ben didn't seem surprised. "I thought you would, John. It just takes a little information and some logic."

"Care to share with the rest of us?" Rousseau asked, the curiosity plain in her voice.

"Ben, how did the DHARMA people create the physical being? The black smoke?" Locke queried, still chuckling.

"They had the fastest computers, years of programming experience, and one of the best labs around. The smoke is merely programmable particles," was Ben's response.

"Of course! Why didn't I make sense of it sooner?!" Locke exclaimed. He was standing now, and pacing back and forth in front of his company.

"That's great, Johnny boy. Explain it, then." Sawyer was getting a little impatient, and clearly just wanted to continue with things.

Locke spoke as if he were thinking out loud. "Everything the smoke monster knows is stored in the little particles that make it up. Humans store nearly all of our information in our brains. The smoke monster's _whole being_ is its brain. The thing isn't an animal. It stores information every particle. Ben, what chemicals were used to create the Cerberus? What exact ingredients?"

"I don't know, John. No one on this island does. Anyone who did," Ben answered simply, "is long dead."

"Wait, so it's like a computerized cloud?" Alex seemed slightly confused, but she was doing her best to keep up with the explanation.

"That's exactly what it is, Alex. Because of its materials, the Cerberus is programmable." Rousseau stated calmly. She was clearly fascinated by the sheer technological prowess the monster had required, not to mention the price ticket it carried, though her face remained impassive.

"All that its inventors would need to do is throw the right electromagnetic waves at it, and their creation would do their bidding. You're sure you don't have any clue what the thing's made of, Ben?" Locke was still thinking out loud.

"Absolutely positive." Ben's voice was flat, but he was clearly amused by Locke.

"Nanoparticles," Rousseau had plainly made the same connections that Locke had.

"The hell are nanoparticles?" Sawyer was unmistakably displeased that Locke and Rousseau knew far more than he did, and he wanted to even the playing field.

"It's an incredible method of programming and memory. The particles are small enough they can support their weight with magnetism," Rousseau clarified.

"For us common folk, could you put it into plain ol' English?" Sawyer requested with a sarcastic air.

"Not really, James, but I'll do my best. It's like this-," Locke stopped pacing, and turned to face Sawyer. He was about to launch into another explanation, but Ben rested a firm hand on his shoulder.

"John, I can take it from here. I commend you for how much you've figured out, but don't you think it'd be easier for them if someone who knew the full story, or as close to the full story as possible, spoke?"

Locke sighed, nodded, then sat down in the tall grass next to Rousseau, and waited for Ben to begin.


End file.
